


self-confidence

by dannylovemail



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Anxiety, mentions of depression, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 07:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannylovemail/pseuds/dannylovemail
Summary: “ i hated the way i looked in the mirror, so i broke it. “pulled directly from my wattpad





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur Kirkland stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His shaky breath made it fog up. Looking at himself made his stomach churn. There was nothing more in the world that Arthur hated more.

The only thing he hated was himself.

His vision started to blur. _Don't_ _cry_.

His breath hitched in his throat. _Don't_. _Cry_.

His shoulders shook, giving out. He nearly collapsed into the sink. _Goddammit, Kirkland, you worthless human being, do something good for once and don't let yourself become weak!—_

A door opens. _Bugger_. Arthur straightened up. He looked into the mirror beside him to see who had come in. A jock. Blond hair. Blue eyes. American. Cowlick. He had seen him before. The school's prized player; perfect; amazing; admired. Everything Arthur wasn't. He quickly looked away, hoping he hadn't seen him.

The jock boy had come in louder than usual. He was talking to his friends before. His friends: stupid; putrid; Arthur could care less about them. They were talking about a game — sports, perhaps. Arthur wasn't very good at sports. Or anything at all, really. Arthur was about to take his leave when

"Yikes!," The jock jumped back at the sight of him. "You okay, dude? You look like you saw a ghost, but 10 times as worse."

"I'm fine.," Arthur mumbled. "Completely fine."

The jock shook his head. "Doesn't look like it. You know, if it was a ghost, I'd be hella shook, too. I hate ghosts. Freak me the hell out, 'ya know?"

Arthur didn't bother with a reply. He stood there, quietly. He wanted to leave, to go home where no one can bother him, where it was only him, basking in the sound of silence.

"Is there something you need to talk about, dude? We got counselors for a reason."

"There are some things I simply cannot talk to counselors about."

"Damn.," the jock crookedly smiled. "Edgy. You can talk to me, though. How about over a slushie? Yeah, c'mon, let's go."

The jock took Arthur by the hand, tugging him along. Arthur was taken aback by this sudden idea, and stopped them before they could get the door.

"Why?," Arthur looked up at the jock, who was itching to leave. "I don't even know you. And God _forbid_ you'd want to know me... So why?"

The jock shrugged, smiling widely. "Why not? Making new friends is cool. And how could you not know me? I'm like a god at this school."

Though that was true, Arthur wanted to make a point. "I don't know the real you.," he replied, trying to straighten up. "I would like to know the you behind the championships and popularity."

"Jeez, are you always going to be this deep? Fine. I'll give you a different side of me... If you tell me what's up. Do we have a deal... uhh..."

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Cool, I'm Alfred F. Jones – Do we have a deal, Arthur Kirkland?"

Arthur thought about the 'deal' that had been offered to him. It could have been a win/win situation – for Alfred it would have been at least. For Arthur, it was win/lose. But, after this, he could never see Alfred again; never speak of him; never hear of him; see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil. So it was settled.

"Yes.," Arthur slightly nodded. "We indeed have a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we love self deprecation.
> 
> tysm for reading


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ideal first dates

"Have you ever been to a Seven Eleven, Arthur?," Alfred asked him. They were in Alfred's little red corvette that his daddy probably bought for him. Arthur shook his head. "Whaaaat? Duude, you're missing out big time."

"Well," Arthur fidgeted in his seat. "I don't go out all that much."

"I can tell. You're paler than snow on a Christmas morning."

"Haha.," Arthur said sarcastically. His stomach twisted. _One more thing to hate._ "You're so funny, _Jones_."

"Ouch.," Alfred placed a hand to his heart, smiling widely. "Last name. That hurts."

They pulled up to a convenience store with a gas station out front and many large signs that read _"7/11"_. Alfred hopped out of the car. "Wait right here.," he said.

"Oh, trust me.," Arthur looked around. "I'm not going anywhere."

 

 

About 10 minutes later, Alfred came back with two very large plastic cups in hand. He gave one to Arthur. Arthur looked into the cup. Inside looked like blood poured over crushed ice and smelt vaguely like artificial cherries.

"Are you sure about this?," he asked nervously. "I'm not very sure about this."

"Its fine.," Alfred assured him. "I been here plenty of times. Nothing is ever wrong. Except the hot dogs... they're always too cold."

"Why are we talking about hot dogs now? I can't do this, this is too much pressure."

"Whoa, whoa, no, dude, chill. It's all cool, dude."

Arthur took a deep breath, staring at the cup he had in his hand again. He wasn't too sure what to do. He didn't trust Alfred all that much, because, well, he had just met him. But... he did say that Arthur was his friend. He never had a friend before. He took another breath. It's worth a shot.

With Alfred watching carefully, he took a hit. Maybe a bit to much, because afterwards, there was a large pain that went all throughout his body, and it hurt like hell. " _FUCK_.," He hit the armrest next to him as he yelled. "BLOODY HELL DAMN IT ALL TO HELL AND THE BLOODY. FUCKING. _QUEEN_." Alfred did nothing but laugh, which made Arthur feel even more hurt. "What the hell are you laughing at!"

"Dude, you are such an alien. You haven't even expirenced a brain freeze.," Alfred tried to catch his breath. "That's classic. I should tell the BTT about this, oh my God, they're going to love you."

Arthur was going to protest, but Alfred already threw the car in reverse. "So, Mr. Kirkland.," He said, turning the wheel but not paying any attention to the road. "I assume that you're going to tell me your woeful backstory by now. And when you're done, I'll tell you mine. That was the deal, remember?"

"Yes, I clearly remember. I don't remember why I agreed to this, however.," Arthur paused, gathering a basic timeline in his mind for what he was about to say, then took a few deep breaths. "My father left when I was young. I don't remember many details or memories with him, because it was too early in my lifetime, so it was just me, my mum, and my brothers. I never got along with anyone in my family, really. When my father left, they blamed me, telling me that I was the reason that he didn't want to be around us anymore. When my mother died, they blamed me for it, as well, telling me I made her too weak to go on. There was something they just hated about me, which later developed into my own self hatred. I don't see myself as any good to this world..."

"... Did'ja... make any, uh... _y'know_...," Alfred stumbled on his words, like he was afraid to say something. "Shit, how do you put this lightly... didyoumakeanyattempts?"

"That's personal."

"Did you get any help?"

"No."

"Oh, c'mon.," Alfred stopped at a red light, then Arthur realized that he wasn't mad at the fantastically poor traffic, but at him personally. "Not even once? That's gonna fuck you up in the long run, and the attempts become successes. Have you thought about that? Bet not. Bet you think nothings ever going to happen because nobody cares. That's just..."

He stopped mid-sentence, and looked back at the road. This was an abnormally long red light. Arthur spoke up. "Are you okay?"

"My parents adopted me when I was 5. They already had a son, and as soon as I met him, I already called him my brother. Me and him were close. Been through thick and thin. Then we hit middle school and something about him just changed, y'know?" Alfred ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were clouded with trouble. "He became like, a ghost. One day, I think during sophomore year, or something like that, he disappeared. Week later, dead. I wouldn't of known, because he didn't tell anybody."

Arthur was filled with guilt. He led him into this conversation, because he was such an idiot. "I'm sorry that happened. I didn't mean for this to end up like... _this_. I'm really sorry, I should go home, I... I'm just messing things up."

"No, it's fine...," Alfred straightened up in his seat. "It felt good to say that, 'cause I hadn't told anyone that story in two years. Only people who know now are you, and the BTT," he flashed his winning smile, "Who you will soon meet.," When the light turned green, he floored the corvette, and it went as fast as it could go in a suburban area. "But what I haven't told you is what the outcome was. I wouldn't let myself go unnoticed, so when football season started, I joined, and then baseball, 'cause I will only play America's greatest games. You should come to a football game sometime, I'm a great player."

Arthur scoffed, covering a small smile. This guy was outrageous. "Sure, you are, Jones."

"Artieeeeee, call me Alfreddddd. Don't stick to that last name bullshit, you're killing the mood."

"What mood? And don't call me that."

"You're not feeling the mood, Artie? 'Cause I'm sure feeling the mood, Artie." Alfred was only teasing. Harmless, playful teasing. There was nothing for Arthur to worry about. It was fine. They were fine.

Soon, they pulled up to a house, which looked more like a McMansion. Alfred pulled up in the drive way, which was moderately empty. Arthur sat in awe. "This can't be your house."

"It isn't. It's Francis's, lucky ol' bastard. I live in a normal two story house with my parents."

"Must be nice."

"Okay, no more moping, you're meeting the BTT."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theyre gay
> 
> tysm for reading


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here comes those three assholes

"They're good guys, I swear.," Alfred walked Arthur up the pathway to the front door. He put his hand to his heart, as if he was reciting a pledge. "Cross my heart, hope to die, or stick a knife in my eye."

Arthur cringed. "That's a bit brutal."

"It was the only thing that made that saying flow."

Alfred rang the doorbell, which was so loud that you could hear it from outside the house. It took no more than 5 minutes for someone to answer the door. The man was taller than Arthur — but of course he was, everyone was taller than Arthur. — had blonde hair — it was paler than Alfred's but darker than Arthur's — and looked entirely too familiar. Yes, he had seen him before. He saw him while passing by a classroom, which held the French club. He was the president.

Arthur _despised_ him.

"Francis!," Alfred had a small "bro moment" with Francis before pulling Arthur into the "bro moment" to introduce him, bro. "This my oh-so-cheery new pal, Arthur Kirkland. He's gonna join the group, if that's cool."

"Of course, mon ami!," Francis had focused his attention to Arthur. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Arthur."

"Oh, but the pleasure is all mine," Arthur replied cockily. He regretted it as soon as he said it.

"Come in, come in! Toni and Gilbert are already here."

Francis had led them into a large living room, which looked like it was decorated like a rich log cabin in Montana. Two others were sitting on the couch in the center, next to a lit fire place, even though it wasn't very cold.

"TONIIII, GILLLLL.," Alfred yelled to them as soon as they walked in. He pulled Arthur along next to him. "I brought along a new member of our broship. Say hello to Arthurrr Kirklaaand...!"

Arthur stared at Alfred, who was in an uncomfortable looking pose while introducing him. "Please never do that again, I'll worry for your well being."

"Save your worrying for later!," an albino rose from his seat. He was quite familiar with him, but not too much. "Gilbert Beilshmidt."

"How do you do?"

"Gesundheit."

Arthur dismissed Gilbert's stupidity and focused attention to the other person who was also present. He gave him a look that said ‘I'm sorry, he's an idiot’. He stood up, and held out his hand. "I'm Antonio Carrideo. I'm assuming you know Alfred."

"Sadly, yes.," Arthur said almost loud enough for Alfred to hear. He probably did, because he glanced at him as soon as he did. Sometimes he wished he could just hold his tounge...

"He's not as bad once you get to know him, I promise you.," Antonio went on. He leaned in close, talking then in a low voice. "Between you and me, I think all those tackles really went to his head, no?" He sniggered, and Arthur was begining to like him already.

 _This won't be so bad_ , he thought. _Maybe it'll be alright_.

 

 

By the end of the day, Arthur and Antonio were chatting up a storm, while the other boys were doing stupid and obsurd activities. They had much more in common than he thought they would. But then it was time to leave, because for some reason, Alfred, the 18-year-old jock boy who could clearly take care of himself, had a curfew.

"That wasn't that bad, was it?," Alfred asked Arthur, shifting the corvette into reverse and backing out.

"No. It was completely miserable. I hope you never take me back here again."

"Awww, c'mon. They're not bad guys, they're just a little... mental, y'know? I think you and Toni really hit it off, don't ya think?"

Arthur shrugged, looking out the window. He guessed he really liked him, but it was probably nothing. He shut his eyes and thought. Just thought and thought about life... and other stuff. He just wanted to go home and go into his room and just stay there and never be bothered. He would never have to see Alfred or his stupid corvette or his stupid friends ever again. Never have to see them again. Never never never never never

"To your right, Casa de Arthur."

He opened his eyes. Without saying a word to Alfred, he raced to his front door. He put his hand on the knob, but he froze. He looked back at Alfred's car, where he just sat. The passenger window rolled down, and Alfred waved. Arthur managed a small wave back. And then he just stood there, looking at Alfred. He couldn't be emotionally attatched to him already, could he? He looked back at the door. _No_. He _couldn't_ be. That would be mad. Arthur promised to never be attatched to anyone ever again. He turned the handle, and went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wasnt serious at all and half of me is disappointed for writing it
> 
> tysm for reading <3


End file.
